In which a man entertains himself during his wife’s business trip

“Are you sure you’re ok with this?” Paul gave his wife one last opportunity to change her mind. “I don’t have to do this if you’re at all uncomfortable.”

“Oh Paul, you’re so sweet!” Sallie stood on tiptoe to hug her husband. “But this is the perfect solution to our … issues. I’m going to be eating caviar and drinking champagne with a bunch of French businessmen with more money than sense. While I’m gone, please have your fling; get it out of your system. We’ll both come back richer for the experience.”

The pair kissed, a long kiss to tide them over the couple of weeks they would be apart. Then Paul retrieved his wife’s suitcases from the trunk of their car, and left them – and a large tip – in the custody of a porter.

“Ok then, lover.” Paul looked down into his wife’s eyes. “Good luck landing that contract.”

Sallie smiled wryly. “Another step toward global domination for MultiNational.” Her smile turned wistful. “Good luck to you too, my love.”

Paul didn’t bother driving home. He’d already made sure their place was locked and secure, and his packed suitcase was already in the back seat. He hopped on the interstate and drove south, away from Salt Lake City, bastion of Morality With a Capital M, on his way toward Las Vegas, Sin City.

He drove past well-irrigated farms and rocky hills, listening to the CD of “The Joy of Christmas,” Sallie had started listening to on the way to the airport. Since his wife had three sisters in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, Paul thought she listened to that more out of duty, but she actually seemed to like choral works.

When the CD played itself out, Paul carefully replaced it in its case. He smiled at the thought that both of them would be back from their errands in time to share Christmas together with his folks in Bountiful. Then he turned his thoughts to the bounty that he was heading out to enjoy.

The hills gave way to desert as the fiery heavy metal chords filled the sedan. Paul sped down the road, singing along to Iron Maiden, Molly Hatchet and other “Monsters of Rock.” At a service station – last one he’d see for a while – he gassed up the Lexus for way more than he would have paid back home.

A shiny red mustang convertible pulled up opposite him. A pretty blonde slid out from behind the wheel. ‘Pretty?’ Paul corrected himself as the girl stretched. ‘Nope, she’s _hot_!’ The blonde’s big tits stretched her halter top, and her hair was like a halo. She met his eyes with a mischievous smile and licked her lips.

“Afternoon, miss!” Paul said with a smile of his own.

“Hey there, sir.” The lady said, her southern accent practically dripping with Magnolia blossoms. “I take it from the clean-cut folks here that I’m in Utah?”

“Yes you are – welcome to the Beehive State!”

The blonde sauntered over to the pump, still looking Paul in the eye. She drew her red-painted fingernails along the hose to the pump and lifted it from its handle. Glancing down at it, she licked her lips again, then looked back up at Paul. She slowly turned the gas cap and when it was opened, she took the gas pump, actually petted it a couple of times, then shoved it into the gas tank. Still looking at Paul, she pulled the pump out a little ways, then shoved it in again and started fueling.

“Nice place!” She giggled, bending over the back of the Mustang, letting her cut-off jeans ride up to her behind. “Right friendly folks here.”

“Yes indeed!” Paul nodded. He turned to replace his own fuel pump and, looking down, saw why the blonde giggled. His privates were as hard as they were on his wedding night, tenting out the front of his slacks obscenely. An elderly couple was coming out of the store. Paul hurriedly got back in his Lexus before he embarrassed himself, and he sped off.

He drove down the road, enjoying the loud music, a cold Coke, and the memory of that hot blonde. Just past Overton, Paul stopped for the night. The little pit-stop where he pulled over had few streetlights, and the glow from the city almost 50 miles away was phenomenal. ‘Las Vegas,’ Paul nodded. ‘City of Stars.’

He called Paris on his cell phone, listened to Sallie, her voice sounding tinny and distant. The flight was fine, and she was headed to her hotel. They talked for a few minutes, exchanged “I love you”‘s, then hung up before their cell phone bill became too large. He thought of making another call, for some local company, but decided that could wait; he was tired from his trip and wanted to be awake and alert enough to enjoy himself, when it was time.

The next morning came, cloudless and warm for December. Paul paid his bill, including the ten bucks for the movie he watched before going to sleep. The moans of the two girls going at it on the TV filled his dreams, the girls becoming his Sallie and the blonde from the gas station. After those dreams last night, he was more than ready for some fun that day.

The place Paul had read about online was actually outside Las Vegas, but he’d have to drive through the city to get to it. As he drove along, Paul was surprised to find the city mostly deserted; it was as if everyone were asleep at nine in the morning.

He pulled into a casino – the Lucky Star – and shared their very inexpensive breakfast buffet with about 50 rather loud older ladies. He hadn’t had steak for breakfast often and this one was good; the fancy breakfast almost made him feel better about losing about five dollars on the slot machines on his way out the door.

Paul came upon the desert ranch pretty suddenly. One minute he was in the middle of nowhere, following the directions he’d printed out, then around a turn and over a corner, and here he was: Exotica Gentlemen’s Club. Driving through the gate and up the drive, Paul was impressed with how well-maintained it was. It made sense; at five hundred dollars or more per customer, they could afford skilled grounds keeping.

He let the valet get his car and walked inside. Even though it wasn’t noon yet, the cool building was a pleasant change from the already warm outside. The lady at the receptionist counter was stunningly beautiful and very friendly, even if she was all business. She had him sign a couple forms, one of which was several pages long, and ran his credit card.

“Welcome to Exotica, Mr. Smith,” she smiled. “Would you like Violet to accompany you today?”

She gestured to a cute, redhead about 20 years old. Her smile and her warm, brown eyes, were friendly, welcoming. Unlike the buxom blonde he’d met yesterday, Violet was slender, with a gymnast’s body.

“Yes,” Paul said, taking her hand. “I would like that very much.”

The two strolled around the grounds, getting to know each other. Violet was a native of Las Vegas, and was studying to work in the hospitality industry. She wanted to manage her own hotel one day. She was 21 and had been working at Exotica since she turned 18, shortly after graduating with honors from a local high school. She was close to finishing university studies, and planned to move to Canada where a luxury hotel was going to take her on as an intern manager.

“So Paul, you want to get some lunch?”

“Pardon me?” Paul had been caught up in Violet’s pretty body and lovely voice. “I hadn’t been thinking about lunch; I’ve been kind of … distracted.”

Violet giggled. “Lunch and dinner are both included in your fee, as well as my … company.”

“Well,” Paul said with a chuckle. “Since I’m treating anyway, let’s get that lunch!”

Lunch was a thick prime rib steak, baked potato and all the trimmings. It was easily one of the best meals he’d ever had. And the company was very good. Violet listened with unfeigned interest as he told her about himself. Her questions drew out the fact that he was married, and that his wife had agreed that he should take some of their savings and have this adventure. She thought his wife very sweet for agreeing to that.

After lunch, Violet took him out to one of the establishment’s four swimming pools. “I like this one,” she said. “It’s in an out-of-the- way location, so we won’t be disturbed.” She removed her clothes unselfconsciously. “So, Paul,” she giggled. “Ever gone skinny- dipping?”

“No,” Paul smiled. “But I always like to try new things.”

He was somewhat more self conscious as he slipped out of his clothes. Violet made small talk and folded his things. The sight of her cute, naked body more than anything else distracted him from being embarrassed. In fact, by the time he too was naked, he felt comfortable enough to lead her with him into the shallow end of the pool.

The water was cool and refreshing in the warm desert sunshine. The two talked in low tones, as they drifted back and forth in the water. Paul was becoming more comfortable with Violet, her curly red hair, her freckles, along her shoulders as well as her cheeks. Her skin was soft and warm. The spent less time talking and more time touching.

As comfortable as he was being naked with a naked lady, Paul was still a bit embarrassed after a while of hugging Violet, stroking her skin and she stroking his, when he found himself erect.

“How very nice!” Violet reached out and gently held his erect member. “I really like the way the human body looks.” She smiled. “Other wise I wouldn’t be in this line of work.”

Violet looked up into the man’s eyes. “Paul … you can do pretty much anything you want with me. Those forms you signed make what we do my decision, and candidly, I don’t give many of my clients that kind of freedom. But I trust you; you have a good heart.”

Paul almost melted at her warm, welcoming smile, as she took his hands in her own. “So what would you like to do with me, Paul?”

“I’d like to come in your mouth.” Paul surprised himself; he’d never said something like that, even to Sallie. “I’m sorry, Violet – that was so vulgar, I -”

“I don’t think it was, not coming from you.” Violet stood on tiptoe to kiss the man. “I think it is a very nice fantasy, and I’m honored to share it with you.” She led him to the steps at the shallow end of the pool. “If you want me to please you orally, dear Paul, then your wish is my command.”

Paul got out of the pool, admiring Violet’s gymnast’s body, the beads of water glinting in the sunshine. He walked with her to a lawn chair and she helped him lie down on it. Taking a bottle of oil, she gave him a massage. Paul had never had a massage before, and her small, strong hands on his arms, legs and shoulders left him feeling peaceful and relaxed.

Then she went to work on his privates. The fingers of one hand massaged his scrotum, while the other hand gripped his member gently and stroked the length, from scrotum to tip and back. Paul gasped with pleasure. Violet met his gaze, and while looking him deeply in the eye, took him into her mouth.

She licked and ever so gently nibbled at his rock-hard member, then sucked him into her mouth again. All the while, looking into his eyes, communicating more with her gaze than Paul thought possible. Her head bobbed up and down on his glistening shaft, taking her time, taking all of him in.

Paul moaned, letting himself go, not worrying about how he sounded or how this looked; he just let himself feel good. When he was feeling completely open and comfortable with everything, his and Violet’s nakedness, her sucking and licking his member, even his own reaction to her, then Violet brought him off.

As he lay there inarticulately moaning his pleasure, Violet, still looking into his eyes, sucked him hard, rubbing his shaft with her tongue and bringing him to orgasm. Paul had never come that powerfully before. He shot what seemed like gallons of come into her mouth, yet she didn’t spill any; she kept a tight seal on him, never letting go till he was done.

“Wow, Violet!” Paul gasped. He’d never felt so good before, didn’t think it was possible to feel that good. “That was so wonderful! You’re so … wonderful!”

“I’m so glad you liked it, Paul.” Violet hugged him, and whispered into his ear. “I liked it too. I like making people feel good, and you especially.” She held out her hand for him. “Wanna take a shower? Then afterward I can show you my room and we can talk about what we’d like to do later.”

Paul walked with her to the shower and turned on the water. As he soaped himself, Violet went to get their clothes. Paul was so impressed. He’d had the time of his life, and it sounded like they were just getting started. He could hardly wait for whatever was coming up next.

Just then his cell phone rang. He watched with some apprehension when Violet picked it up.

“Paul Smith’s cell phone, may I help you?”

Soap was running into his eyes; Paul rinsed off hurriedly as he heard Violet’s end of the conversation.

“This is Violet Maxwell, one of the hostesses at the Exotica Gentlemen’s Club. Paul’s in the shower just now. Oh you’re Sally! Paul’s been telling me all about you! You’re a lucky lady; Paul’s deeply in love with you. Wow, congratulations! Yes, I’ll tell him. You too, Sally! Bye.”

Paul got to Violet just as she was hanging up with Sallie.

“That was Sallie; she’s boarding her plane now. Her meeting was such a success she was able to come home early. She should be back in Salt Lake in a few hours.”

“Oh my!” Paul was surprised. “I’ve got to hurry if I’m going to meet her at the airport!”

As Violet helped him dress and then dressed herself, Paul had conflicting emotions. He was disappointed to have his adventure cut short, but he was also excited to see Sallie again so soon. “I’m sorry I have to go, Violet. It was … wonderful!”

“I’m sad too, Paul; I looked forward to spending more time with you.” She held his hand as they made there way back to the entrance to Exotica. “Maybe if she likes the idea, both of you could come back and the three of us could spend time together.”

Paul looked down at Violet, this talented sexual gymnast who seemed genuinely to like him. “I’ll ask Sallie that, Violet. I’m not sure what she’ll say, but I’d like that a lot.”

The two kissed as the valet fetched his car. “I’m glad I met you, Violet.”

“I’m glad I met you too. Give Sally all my best.”

The drive back was uneventful, but thoughtful. Paul went looking for adventure and excitement. He’d found both as well as a new friend. He arrived at the airport just in time to meet Sallie. Their hug and passionate kiss at the baggage terminal reminded Paul how much he loved his wife.

“So,” Sallie said as they were leaving the airport. “I got a chance to talk with Violet. She seemed … nice.”

“She is,” Paul agreed. “Want to hear about my adventure?”

“Nope,” his wife said. “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”